A young couple travel to a mysterious island where they're offered the
chance to swap bodies with another couple.
Review by
Benjamin Poole
Directed by: Alex Schaad
Starring: Mala Emde, Jonas Dassler, Maryam Zaree, Dimitrij Schaad, Edgar Selge
Of course, if I had to, it would be Penélope Cruz. On the happenstance
of a person twisting my arm and forcing me to body swap with somebody
else (you know, like in that abiding genre staple of '80s VHS comedy),
I'd choose the coolest and most stylish human being on planet Earth. I'd
recreate last year’s photoshoot for Geox (a favourite), continue
stealing the show in every film my presence graced, and just generally
exude a luxurious air of intelligence, elegance and warmth. Or would I?
I mean, after all, there must be more to being Penélope Cruz than
winning a genetic jackpot. Elegance is earned, intelligence is
developed, warmth is attributed. So, who's to say that I wouldn't make a
right balls up of being Penélope Cruz? And if I am Penélope Cruz, do I
have to do Penélope Cruz things? More I think about it, more acting
seems like a right chore, too - cba, sorry Mr Almodóvar. If Penélope
Cruz is me then am I now my own biggest fan? Like a musician who can
never see their own band live, I'll never have the objective pleasure of
watching Penélope Cruz as not Penélope Cruz. And would the experience of
watching a Penélope Cruz film become like when I re-read older pieces of
my writing now, an alien blend of over-familiarity and hitherto
unnoticed errors in my attempts to be Penélope Cruz?
And if you don't think the above paragraph is all a bit asinine,
self-involved and circumlocutory then please allow me to recommend
Alex Schaad's (with co-writing from Dimitrij Schaad)
Skin Deep with its hour and 43 minutes provision of
similarly inane rumination concerning the nature of allure, gender and
identity. Except with less implied Penélope Cruz.
Yet, there is glamour. Following a strange prologue (of which more
later), we follow a young couple - Leyla and Tristan - as they disembark
upon a Scandinavian island in summer (Preetz actually, but close
enough), ostensibly for a spot of glamping with the cheery commune who
are already in situ. The island is Insta-ready, with a visual set and
colour scheme borrowed from the pre-Raphaelites: flowing water, long/red
hair, medieval clothing. Classy. And exclusive too. There is a pool
where, if you have a dip in it, your essence can be transposed to the
body of another bather and vice versa (or Vice Versa, 1988). Not your typical Trip Advisor boast...
The imperial framing of the island and the prominence of aquatic space
(the opening credits are imposed over beautiful young people submerged
in the water, an amniotic context for these adult-children), along with
an early cameo from Rembrandt’s Diana Bathing with her Nymphs with
Actaeon and Callisto, seemingly locate the narrative within the grandeur
of Classical mythology. The dominant plot touchstone would be Narcissus,
wherein an overwhelmingly vain young man thought he was a lake and
drowned himself. Likewise, via Skin Deep's magical spa spring, Tristan (Jonas Dassler - the process of
assigning cast names to character is weird, as they essentially play
several roles, but I am not about to query IMDB) and Leyla (Mala Emde) swap their physicalities with Mo (Dimitrij Schaad) and Fabienne (Maryam Zaree
- what a gorgeous name) during the film's first act. You can just
imagine the sort of existential to-do it sets off...
One character can't bear it, one likes having sex with a "different"
person, one likes having sex with different gender equipment; they all
find themselves behaving in ways they normally wouldn't, and in the end
another one doesn't want to give up the new body (like when you borrow a
lovely item of clothing from a friend and it suits you far better than
them, it is just obvious, and so forget to return it).
The first issue with Skin Deep is it seems deeply
impressed with its own over familiar concept, to the extent that merely
presenting such a notion in and of itself is weighty and provocative. I
mean, even Tom Hanks has body swapped. Rob Schneider! Frothy comedy
aside, within more elevated texts (yeah, you know what I mean), the
ramifications of gender and identity relocation are consistently and
deftly examined within specifically genre contexts (Get Out,
Possessor). Skin Deep's ostensibly tasteful mise-en-scene and rhythms make for a
comparatively superficial exploration.
It transpires that the film's opening non-sequitur refers to the island
leader Stella (played by septuagenarian Edgar Selge), who is a
young woman in a much older and male presenting body: using the ritual,
her father sacrificed himself for his very unwell daughter. A
heart-breaking and beautiful concept which entails more pathos and
dramatic potential than Skin Deep has at large. And thus,
the other, and more fatal, problem with Skin Deep is that
it reductively explores its ideas within the restricted vanities and
jejune anxieties of millennials. This mob, with their youth and
Balenciaga model looks, all seem fairly interchangeable even pre-ritual.
You get the feeling that they're just re-enacting the same sort of
dramas they most likely would be anyway, with or without the swap. An
18-30s holiday with Erving Goffman pretensions.
It is beautifully filmed, and apropos its solipsistic sexuality,
Skin Deep does feature a healthy amount of nudity (I did
like the scenes when a female character discovers the joy of having a
penis - just the surprise of having this responsive little pleasure toy
between the legs - hahaha!). There is plenty of skin here, it's just not
that deep.
Skin Deep is in US cinemas from
February 2nd. A UK/ROI release has yet to be announced.
